Final Resolution
by AnimeCountDown
Summary: And what might the New Year bring for a boy who already has everything? SasukeXNaruto. Warnings: Modern/Yaoi.
1. Chapter 1

It was a long standing tradition that the head of the Uchiha family hosted all holiday celebrations.

For all of Sasuke's life, every Christmas, Thanksgiving, Fourth of July, and all the rest were spent in the luxury of his grandfather's thousand-acre vineyard. After dedicating half his long life to the family's multi-million corporation, he'd taken up the hobby of wine making-as a pastime that just so happened to collect even more revenue for the weathered, wrinkled old man.

That's how Sasuke saw his father's dad. Not as a grandfather, but as the man he was supposed to live up to, impress, and imitate word for word. He was tall, but hunched, with skin darker than it used to be from all the time he'd spent with his lovely, perfect grapes. Usually, he smelled of leather and Clive Christian cologne. Sometimes he smelled like tobacco, when he decided that one pipe full didn't really count as breaking his twenty-year record of not smoking. He never did any of the things a grandfather was supposed to do, like teach Sasuke how to fish or take him camping or any of the fun things people at school talked about. No, Sasuke's grandfather was the most self-important, impersonal, pretentious bastard in the entire Uchiha family.

And that was quite the feat.

No doubt, the old man was proud of his accomplishment nonetheless, for an Uchiha wasn't a _real_ Uchiha unless he was the best at everything, and Sasuke was perfectly content if that made him and the rest of his insufferable family nothing more than a bunch of _fake_ Uchihas. So long as the prick was telling someone _else_ how much _they_ sucked at life, Sasuke was more than happy to sit in the shadows and be a failure. On more than one occasion had he nearly lost his temper because of his grandfather, but to raise his voice in an unmannerly fashion, especially to an elder, would be a crime deserving of such punishment even_ he_ had been able to hold his tongue thus far.

So around the time winter winds began rolling around, Sasuke began to fortify his nerves for a whole two months of visits to California, where family time was anything but warm and sunny. It was all tradition for the sake of the family photo, and it simply nauseated Sasuke. He'd rather stay at home for the holidays, while his parents and brother went to visit and play their Uchiha game of smiles, two-faced comments, and obsessive rivalry. He'd order Chinese food and play video games until they got back. He wouldn't even ask for presents. Not that there was anything he didn't already have after all.

But to suggest such a thing would be suicide. Thanksgiving came and went without much fuss-it was only a one-day affair of course. Mere preparation for the biggest and baddest holiday of them all. By December, Sasuke felt almost ready. His stone poker face was newly practiced and he'd gone through his dictionary a couple extra times to fill his memory with more of what his father called _proper_ English-although Sasuke still thought words like "perfidiousness" and "gasconading" were, while both more than appropriate to use in any conversation concerning Uchihas, absolutely absurd.

The day school got out on December 20th, Sasuke's dad rounded them and their luggage into the family car-in other words, the embarrassingly luxurious first-class limousine his family _insisted_ simply _must_ be used for travel-and had them heading for California not an hour after winter break had begun.

They would have been able to go sooner had Sasuke's break not started so late, and everyone seemed dead set on blaming him for the delay. Itachi had gotten out of school nearly a week ago, since he'd finished all his exams early, and while Sasuke tried to explain that he didn't exactly have the luxury of finishing the semester as he pleased, his dad wouldn't let it go.

"My brother and cousins arrived days ago," he scoffed as he checked his watch for the thousandth time since their hurried departure. "We'll be the last to arrive, and father will never let me here the end of it."

_That _is_ a genetic quality, you know. _

Sasuke bit his tongue.

"Why does your high school insist on letting _you _out so late anyway?" Fugaku snapped, tugging the sleeves of his suit into place and brushing invisible dust from his collar. "You'd think they might make an exception. Itachi's school was more than willing to oblige us."

_Well Itachi goes to _Yale_ and I'm stuck at a private high school where the headmistress deals with stuck-up, pompous, arrogant assholes who think _their_ money can dictate state policy every day. Next time, I'll write a strongly worded letter._

"I'm sorry," he said again, for the _millionth _time since the unfortunate date had been revealed. Not with a huff or a role of the eyes or anything remotely resembling an attitude. Or normal human behavior. Uchihas were perfectly proper and polite. About everything.

Except disappointing sons. _That_ they could be total dicks about.

It only took an hour and a half to arrive, though, so the journey was more tolerable than some of the trips Sasuke had been forced to take with his father. His mother and brother were silent for the most part as Fugaku continued to reprimand Sasuke about his school's inexcusable behavior. Sasuke didn't mind them as much. His mother was quietly, timidly encouraging, but backed up his father by the end of it all. And his brother was a rock to lean on when no one was looking. He just still let it happen. But he, Sasuke supposed, had no more power in this ass backwards family than anyone else.

He exited the car last once they'd arrived, right after Itachi. The estate was a prim and pristine as it ever was, and as Sasuke contemplated just how many obnoxious words describing his family started with the letter "p", he followed his family up the stairs and through the front doors.

The foyer was large, bright, and mostly empty, exhibiting a few pieces of priceless furniture, a mini-gallery of gorgeous art, fresh-picked floral arrangements, and a marble grand staircase equipped with gold-plated handrails. Immediately, they were welcomed by the butler, who escorted them grim-faced as always to the parlor, which was currently packed with people Sasuke hated.

It was easy enough to avoid the onslaught of greetings by keeping hidden behind Itachi's taller, more muscular body. Aside from being bigger in general, Itachi simply had a presence that enraptured everyone around him. In this family, disliking Itachi Uchiha basically meant you were demon spawn. Even Sasuke adored him in secret.

"Ah, so my oldest son has finally joined us," Hiroto Uchiha greeted as he hobbled forward. The man had an ego the size of his home state, but age had taken its toll on the elderly business man. He clasped Fugaku's hand firmly, black eyes gleaming beneath his fraying grey hair. "Though late, I am glad you are here, my boy. We have much to discuss. And much to celebrate!"

This he addressed to the rest of the crowd, most of which looked on anyway with politely curious and insatiably jealous eyes-eyes black and cold and identical to every other pair in that room. With a grin, Hiroto raised his champagne glass and nodded to his oldest-and his favorite. Fugaku delicately removed a glass from the silver tray quickly offered to him by one of the three or four servants who drifted skillfully through the mass of beautiful Uchihas. He returned his father's smile and raised his glass, as did the rest of the family. Sasuke soon found himself doing the same thing.

"To a new year!" his grandfather toasted, and the rest of them responded in a joyous chorus. Sasuke tipped the sweet alcohol past his lips as the rest of the family went up in a buzz of conversation again. After another moment or two, he emptied the glass down his throat. It went down easy. The more numb he was the better.

* * *

He managed to hang in there for about an hour. Mingling was never his forte, and hiding in his brother's shadow, while strategic, could only last for so long. After being mercilessly interrogated about his progress in school, his plans for the future, how he was keeping up with the family business, and such and such, he excused himself gracefully with the excuse of needing a trip to the restroom.

Which wasn't even a lie. He'd had so much champagne since arriving, not only was he in desperate need of the lavatory, but he wasn't quite so steady on his feet anymore and his ears and skull were filled with a constant, noiseless buzz. Not a good combination of ailments given the circumstances.

Sasuke went for the long way, passing by his grandfather's office and library, the kitchen and dining room, and many perfectly usable restrooms in opt for the toilet located on the farthest side of the building. Holding in his piss was well worth the quiet he damn well deserved. After relieving himself, he splashed his face with cold water and stared his reflection in the eye until he absolutely _had_ to blink. Dark eyes, dark hair, fair skin, pretty features-just like every one of his relatives. There was no personality, no individuality in this family. You were a clone and did just like everyone else. Or bye-bye inheritance.

"What a shame it'll be when I don't even care about that anymore," he muttered softly. The Uchiha name and everything it implied was slowly sucking the life out of him. One day, even the promise of eternal financial security wouldn't be enough to make all _this_ worth it.

Sucking in a breath, he washed his face once more, relishing in the iciness before patting his cheeks dry and stepping out of the bathroom. He shut the door behind him, turning to head down the hallway as he fiddled with the sleeves of his fifteen hundred dollar Giorgio Armani suit. His seventeenth birthday present.

He was _not_ expecting to run face first into a walking wall.

"_Shit_," he cursed, as said obstacle rammed into him, knocking them both off balance, and the silver tray of food crashing to the floor. Sasuke was quick to follow, but caught himself on the bathroom door handle before he landed in the succulent feast of plum pudding, grilled zucchini, and slow-roasted turkey breast. As he recovered, he stared at the ruined meal, registering it as his grandmother's favorites.

Unlike the rest of the family, Sasuke's grandmother was a delight. She had once upon a time been meek and modest, like Mikoto, Sasuke's own mother. But age had dwindled her mind to a younger version of the proper lady Hiroto had married. She was cheeky and witty and not at all Uchiha-like, but her body was failing her and she spent most of her time sleeping in bed. On most visits, Sasuke would spend as much time with her as he could while she was awake, and even coaxed the servants into helping her onto the back patio for some fresh air. She loved that. She really smiled when they sat outside and enjoyed the breeze and the view and the clear blue sky.

Sasuke raised his gaze to the servant he'd run into.

"I'm so, so sorry, sir," he was rambling, righting himself from where he'd fallen against the opposite wall. He didn't even look up, face ablaze with a ferocious blush, as he pulled out the clean hand towel from his belt-the trademark of every servant at work in an Uchiha manor-with trembling fingers and went to dab at Sasuke's chest. Sasuke's first instinct was to back away, but he refrained, frozen, as the young servant boy attempted to clean the smear of food that prior to that moment, Sasuke had even failed to notice. "I had no idea anyone would even be in this wing, since Hiroto had the west wing parlor prepared. I wasn't paying attention and didn't even see you, sir. I'm so sorry. I was just delivering Kiyomi her evening meal and I just…"

Sasuke stopped listening midway through the boy's apologetic rant, and instead began to stare. Usually, his grandfather hired older gentlemen or younger women, but rarely such a…handsome young man. He was probably an inch taller than Sasuke, with looks faintly reminiscent of what Sasuke might call a modern Achilles. The boy was not without his fair share of muscle from the looks of the way his servant's uniform fit him, and he had the classic look of a Californian beach god. All sun-kissed skin and hair bleached golden. And eyes as blue as the sea.

"Your eyes are my grandmother's favorite color," Sasuke murmured, as the boy turned his attention to the white shirt beneath the suit jacket. It had taken most of the hit, since Sasuke had unbuttoned his suit while in the bathroom, thinking it might help him breathe a little easier. His words-or possibly the fact that he'd spoken at all-shocked the boy into looking straight up at him. And if the sheer depth and beauty of those eyes did not steal his soul right then and there… Sasuke opened his mouth, but he couldn't find his words until his fingers had found the boy's cheek. "Not just blue…but…the perfect shade of blue. The…epitome of blue. Not too eerily light or…lost in darkness…but just…just right. That clear, perfect azure…the blue painter's paint with…the blue blind men dream of…"

He didn't know why he was saying what he was saying, but the words were tumbling out of his mouth as quickly as his heart raced in his throat. And every beat meant another word, another caress just under those wide, stunned, gorgeous blue eyes. Slowly, he wet his lips, both nervous and assured of his decision.

"Do you…know who I am?" he asked in a whisper, each innocent word weighted heavily with desire. The boy opened his mouth, curved lips trembling as he sought an answer. Sasuke could see him wracking his brain, trying to recover, still half-kneeling in front of his master's grandson, cloth pressed gently to his abdomen. Sasuke urged him with his eyes. "Do you?"

"You are…Sasuke Uchiha," the boy finally said, swallowing hard and looking as unsure of himself as Sasuke had felt every day of his life in this house. "You're Hiroto's…youngest grandson."

"I am," he said softly, cupping his hand around the boy's neck. His brain was humming and his heart pattering and his blood felt warm beneath his skin. "And who are you?"

"I…I'm Naruto," he replied, and Sasuke noted the hesitant flutter of his lashes as Sasuke squeezed ever lightly at the top of his spine. "I'm just a servant."

"_You _are utterly divine," Sasuke amended, and then closed the space between their mouths.

Sasuke had not kissed many people in his life, out of both caution and disinterest more than any other reason one could muster. But he'd had his share of it to know he was good at it. One of those Uchiha things, he supposed.

But this kiss was something else. It was slow and exploratory and deep, and something that stirred a tickling heat in his core. Naruto was still beneath him, in shock, but his lips had parted to Sasuke's kiss nonetheless and their mouths were a perfect fit. And with his hand where it was on his neck, moving was not an option for Naruto. Sasuke broke the kiss by a millimeter's breath, only to nudge encouragingly with his lips and tongue, prying the boy to relax and return his favor. And he did. For a single moment so beautiful, so lovely, so right, Naruto pressed upward, his taste like peaches, his smell like musk, and in that moment, Sasuke fell head over heels for the blonde servant boy.

But it _was _just a moment.

"Sir!" Naruto exclaimed, yanking his own body away with such force, Sasuke nearly toppled over him. Righting himself, he turned his attention to Naruto, whose face was once more red as cherries. He was already re-directing his task to the mess he'd made after spilling Kiyomi's meal. "I apologize, sir. I really must get this back to the kitchen so they can fix the lady another plate. I'm so sorry for the inconvenience, sir…"

He continued this self-conscious, nervous rambling until he'd collected all he could onto the plate, his hands covered in pudding and seasoning. He didn't even look up as he muttered another apology, turned on his heel, and rushed down the hall. Away from Sasuke. Away from the kiss.

The kiss Sasuke couldn't stop licking from his lips. It had tasted so delicious…so right…had felt so…as close to heavenly as Sasuke could imagine. Touching his lip briefly, Sasuke stood straight, buttoned his jacket to hide the most of the unsightly stain, and made his way down the hallway as well, his focus on nothing but the tingle that lingered from Naruto's touch. He knew, as he joined the party in the parlor once more, that he would not be able to forget such a moment. Such a person as Naruto.

And if he knew anything, it was that Christmas vacation had just gotten ten times more interesting.

* * *

**Hello, lovelies. I know it takes forever for me to post things, but when you have a million and one things going on, writing fanfictions sometimes takes a back seat, you know? I wish it didn't, but alas. I don't make the rules. **

**Anyway, this is going to be my first attempt at a SasukeXNaruto chapter fanfiction. I really wanted to write something for the New Year, and I guess this came to me last minute - and only because I forced it out. I can't guarantee a work of art, but hopefully it'll be worth reading. First chapter's a little short. Lately, I've gotten annoyed with 10,000 word chapters that have so much detail that I get lost and bored before the good stuff happens. Detail is good, but I guess I go through moods and phases with writing like I do with everything else, and right now, I'm going for short and sweet. Perhaps that will change as the story develops? **

**For those curious, my holidays have been fantastic. My amazing boyfriend (of five months on the sixth) visited me on Christmas and stayed with me through the end of the week. I dorm at my college, so I was required to go home for a whole month, so I was very ecstatic to see him (and the key-shaped white-gold and diamond necklace he bought me for Christmas from Kay *squeal*, haha). He's become something like my best friend, but even better than that, and so he's given me much to think about and many new experiences to write about. Hopefully, one day, I'll get all the things he's given me on paper so you all can enjoy his awesomeness too, hehehe. :3 **

**Anywho, I hope this hooked you. I'm also trying to wrap up Birth so I can go ahead and get that one under my belt. Inferno Princess may be slower in coming, but it definitely is coming. I hope all of you had a great Christmas (or whatever holiday you celebrate!) and a Happy New Year! 3**

**AnimeCountDown**


	2. Chapter 2

"Sasuke, dear!" Mikoto exclaimed as he approached his family. They were all perched on the plush white divan and surrounding matching seats. Itachi and Fugaku were both in deep conversation with Hiroto, about the company surely, but all their eyes turned straight to him the second his mother raised her voice. "What on earth happened to you?"

"I got dizzy earlier and fell into one of the waiters on their way to the kitchen," he assured her smoothly, leaning down to peck her cheek. "Entirely my fault."

"Dizzy?" she repeated, her frown concerned, but not suspicious. "Are you alright?"

"I skipped lunch today finishing the work my teachers gave me for break," he lied, not missing a beat. His father and grandfather looked on in silence, neither disapproving or otherwise. Merely observing. "I wanted to get the work out of the way. Put family first."

"You must be starved!" his mother gushed, but Sasuke patted her shoulder gently with a shake of his head.

"I'd really just like to lie down for a moment in my room," he said, then turned with an apologetic nod to his grandfather. "If you don't mind, sir."

"Well, we can't have one of our own sick, can we?" Hiroto chuckled, and Sasuke mustered a bashful smile despite his grandfather's condescending tone. "Go on and get your rest. How about I have something sent up to your room? Something light, so as not to upset your stomach. Especically with all that champagne you've been drinking, hm?"

At this, Fugaku arched a single, displeased brow, while Itachi's lips twitched dangerously in the direction of a smile. Sasuke forced his expression into a shamed one, letting his cheeks flush with feigned embarrassment.

"I would appreciate that very much, sir," he answered.

_Fuck you, old man._

He escaped without much fuss after that, and hurried up the grand staircase to the second floor. This level of the mansion was a maze of bedrooms, but Sasuke knew the winding route to his room as well as he knew his damnable name. Every room was specifically assigned to each member of the family and was the same every visit. Even with the dozens of Uchihas alive, there were still plenty of rooms to spare.

His was a room on the southernmost side, facing the beautiful stretch of vineyard that filled most of Hiroto's vast property. It was an elegantly furnished room, with a single large, curving window adorned with heavy crimson drapes, and simple pieces of matching furniture. A queen-sized bed frame carved of ebony, with a thick mattress dressed in red silk sheets; a loveseat of the same color in the corner; a tall wardrobe engraved with beautiful, simple design; a bookshelf waist-high filled with books on business, finance, and the Uchiha history; a slight desk, equipped already with such an assortment of office supplies it made Sasuke sick.

All his luggage had already been brought up and put away for him. His laptop, safe in its case, leaned against the desk, while his clothes for the family dinner were laid out on the bed for him. Normally, he was at least allowed to dress himself, but during family visits, there were some things Hiroto was insistent on orchestrating to the smallest detail.

Sasuke let out a long, heavy sigh, wishing for nothing more than a bottle of good wine and a lovely distraction to last him the night. Thoughts of the blonde body immediately flooded his mind, and they brought more than a smirk to his lips. Biting his bottom lip, Sasuke fell back against his door, fingers working at relieving his member from the overly snug fit of his pants. Unbuttoned and unzipped, he pulled himself out into the familiar hold of his own hand.

Gently at first, he squeezed, and gasped in response to the way he throbbed hotly in his grip. All it took was for him to recall the way Naruto had felt against his mouth, and he was painfully hard, unbearably sensitive to every brush of his own fingers. Tilting his head back, he began to pump steadily, thinking of those lips, those eyes, that godly beautiful face.

It didn't take long. He knew his body well, and could just as easily last twenty minutes as he could make himself come in a matter of moments if he so desired. And right now, he didn't want to savor a second; he just need release. He groaned through his teeth as he began to reach his peak, slowly winding up to it, and immediately, his pace picked up. Paying special attention to the head, he stroked himself hard and fast until his memory of Naruto's perfect blue eyes shattered into a shower of blistering azure sparks and blinding white hot flames. It was sheer bliss.

He coaxed himself from his high, but it was already over. Once he hit that climax, he was overcome by disappointment, anxiety, and yet more raw wanting. Pursing his lips with an unsatisfied frown, he left his place at the door, dick still in hand, to visit the adjoining restroom. Inside, he wiped himself clean and tucked away his member before zipping back up. It was as he was washing his hands that a knock sounded outside. Not moving from the sink, he lifted his voice to be heard from the bathroom.

"It's unlocked," he called. There was a moment's quiet before the distinguished click of the door opening reached his ears. He moved for a clean hand towel to dry his hands. "You can just leave it on the desk."

The silence that met him was typical behavior for an Uchiha servant. "Be seen, not heard" wasn't even accurate, because the only time Hiroto wanted one to so much as be noticeable was when he was needed right at that very moment. And otherwise, he'd best disappear. But as it were, Sasuke was still thinking of the blonde boy, and how it had been his specific duty to deliver dinners to those unwell in their rooms, and with a twisting in his gut, he curiously stepped out of the restroom and into the bedroom.

His disappointment was immediate. The servant was not so much a woman as she was a young girl, with large, shy doe eyes and long, perfectly-attended-to blonde hair. In a way, she was like Naruto. Blue eyes, blonde hair, very beautiful. But she was, of course, a _she_, and so his disinterest showed in the purse of his lips and sounded in the heaviness of his sigh. The girl blushed, as though she'd been caught in the act, though all she'd been doing was setting down the covered silver platter and a tall glass of water. He gave her a brief nod and then began to turn his attention elsewhere, before being struck by a genius idea.

"Are you new?" he asked casually, striding over to the edge of the bed slowly. She was on the other side, by the door, but one might've thought he'd pounced right on top of her with the way her face lit up. "I've just never noticed you."

"Um… Well, in a sense," she said softly, though Sasuke had a feeling she was feigning the sweet act. Despite her tone, she had a strong voice, and he would bet her delicate behavior was more for his benefit than genuine. "I've been here since April. I was one of the servers during the Thanksgiving dinner…"

"Ah," he noted, eyeing her carefully, almost predatorily. From the way she kept peeking at him from beneath her eyelids, he had a feeling she liked feeling like a kind of harmless, innocent prey. Or, at least, that's what she wanted him to think she was. "My grandfather seems to be hiring a lot of new staff lately. I ran into a boy earlier I'd never seen before, too. Naruto, I think he said his name was…"

"Oh… Naruto's only been here for a few months as well," she said, hesitating only slightly. If Sasuke had to guess, it'd be because the attention was no longer on her. But he'd get something out of her before she scurried out, damn it. "He's mostly assigned duties for Miss Kiyomi, though. Her old caretaker got the flu for a while, right after Mr. Hiroto hired Naruto. They gave him the caretaker job just to fill it, and it was meant to be temporary, but she took to him so quickly that she requested Naruto take care of her permanently from now on. So he's usually with her… I'm sorry, sir, I didn't mean to go on like that."

"Don't apologize," Sasuke answered, flashing a signature Uchiha smirk. He knew he'd been right when she smiled shyly and ducked her head like a school girl. Sasuke didn't date, but he wasn't oblivious to the attention girls gave him, and as an Uchiha, like it or not, he knew how to use charm to his advantage. "I much like the company sometimes. My family can give me a bit of a headache."

"How could that be, sir?" she questioned, before she could catch the unprofessional inquiry. But she seemed so naively curious that he snorted and obliged her.

"Not every man grows up with the ambitions of a lying, two-faced snake," he scoffed, and when she paled rather than blushed again, he sighed and put his fingers to his temple. "Forgive me. I've not been feeling well lately. It must be getting to me."

"No, no, sir," she said, regaining her senses quickly and returning to her meek servant girl self. "Your family responsibilities must burden you a lot…"

"Yes, but that's the Uchiha curse," he laughed with a shake of his head. "Beauty, wealth, and fame, and all it'll cost you is one measly soul."

The girl was quiet after that, looking at him in a way no one had ever gotten the chance to. So far in his life, the only person he'd dared confide to about his dislike for the fate his name had given him was Itachi, and his brother had never given him such a look of surprise, revelation, and new understanding that this servant gave him now.

_Never thought about it like that, did you?_

Still, he regretted the words after he said them. Saying something so provocative to a girl under his grandfather's rule wasn't a very wise thing to do. It put the both of them in jeopardy after all. He was starting to lose control over his calm façade, and in this world of Uchihas, that was one thing he could not afford. Sighing, he shook his head lightly and tried to find the words to cover up his traitorous declaration.

"Well, sir," she said suddenly, not quite as timidly as she had before. He watched her warily as she struggled to say what she was thinking. Finally, she paused, closed her mouth and smiled. Her words came out steady, strong, and clear this time. "From what I've seen, I think you've been doing a lovely job."

He had nothing to say to that. And she seemed to understand that. For she gave him one last mini-bow, and still smiling, turned to the door. As she was closing it behind her, Sasuke tilted his head and called out for her to wait. When she paused and met his gaze, eyes only faintly quizzical, he licked his lips.

"What's your name?" he asked. Not at all sure why he cared, and not even sure that he actually did. But his question made her beam.

"It's Ino, sir," she answered, and he wondered a moment if this is what all the girls from his school would look like if he took the time to ask them for their name. For a moment, he wondered if he had the heart to care.

Once Ino was gone, he removed the tray's cover, happy to find only a small pile of thinly sliced tuna cooked rare and a cluster of fresh-picked grapes. He would've preferred a sweet wine, but he was content to rest in his bed, back against the headboard, and pick at his fish and fruit with a book in his lap all the same. He hadn't really been all that hungry, so he was grateful for such a light dish, and the moment, for however long it lasted, was quite serene. It was simply over all too soon when the dinner bell rang.

* * *

Family dinners were held, obviously, in the dining room. The room was possibly the largest in the entire mansion, designed specifically to be able to seat a party of forty plus. With three large, dazzling crystal chandeliers; two enormous stone fireplaces currently crackling with glee; and a sleek white Baldwin resting in the corner, Sasuke really considered it more of a…hall than a room. A grand feasting hall, like the ones you saw in medieval movies that were more befit a king than any modern CEO.

Then again…

Sasuke's status gained him a cherished seat so close to Hiroto he probably could have spit in his food if he aimed right. And grew the balls. But Fugaku always sat at Hiroto's right side, while his brother took to their father's left. Their wives sat beside them, and then their oldest, and the next born, and so on until they arrived to the more valued of Hiroto's siblings, and then cousins, nephews, nieces, and so on. So, four seats away, prime spitting range might have been stretching it, but it was close enough for Sasuke to want to scowl and make nasty remarks the entire dinner. Thank god for years of practice and the gift of common sense.

The first course was soup, and a very light one at that. It was really nothing more than a heavily seasoned chicken-or knowing Uchiha customs, maybe lamb or duck-broth with some pieces of soft diced celery and onion. It was good, and kept Sasuke preoccupied. It wasn't polite to ask someone a question if they had food in their mouths, and so he made sure every spoonful got to his mouth with the most strategic timing. So, for a good twenty minutes, he was safe. But in the time it took the servers to replace one course with another, Hiroto had pinned his beady black eyes on Sasuke with a grin.

"Sasuke, my boy," he began, all white teeth and glistening eyes. Everyone near their part of the table turned abruptly to watch Sasuke. He lifted his chin and met his grandfather's gaze fearlessly. "I've been hearing good things about your school work. No doubt you've begun to think about your future in the company?"

It wasn't really a question. Or even an assumption.

It was more of an implication.

"Of course," was Sasuke's immediately reply, polite and confident all the same. "Father's set up an internship for me over the summer so I can get in some experience before I go to college."

"Yale, I expect?" Hiroto said, tilting his head in that "you had better say yes" way of his.

"According to my early action acceptance," he replied, nodding briefly. "I was informed just yesterday."

"Excellent!" Hiorto said, clapping his hands together. "And what with you having all your schoolwork done, this winter break should be quite nice for you. Your future looking so in shape and all."

"Yes sir," he responded, as the staff was bringing out the roast quail entrée. "I'm sure we'll all enjoy our stay. I would like to see grandmother soon as well."

"Ah, yes…" Hiroto murmured, eyes softening in the way they only did for Kiyomi. If anything could hold sway over an Uchiha man, it was his loyal and beloved wife. Sasuke had seen even his own father give under Mikoto's soft words and sweet touches. "That… that would be very good of you, son. She does love your company when you come to visit. It brightens her day. You have a good head on your shoulders, always going to see her the way you do."

"How is mother doing lately?" Sasuke's uncle asked from across the table. Ryu was the younger brother, too, but while Sasuke avoided any attention from his relatives, Ryu fished for it night and day. He didn't like that his elder brother would not only inherit the position of CEO, but that Fugaku had also produced two heirs. "I'm sure she'd love to see _all_ her grandchildren if she's well enough."

"Well don't go bothering her rest," Hiroto scolded, quickly regaining his composure. "She's very frail these days. Hardly ever gets up. Enough of this sad talk, though…"

And so, the conversation moved from Sasuke as though he'd never even spoken. He was content as could be, to sit back, eat his succulent dinner, and listen with one ear open. There was much talk about business deals, in the past and planned for in the future. Here and there, snid-bits of chatter involving politics, foreign affairs and other news made it to the table. They'd all filled each other in on family updates earlier in the parlor, but anything that had slipped someone's mind drifted to the surface casually. By the time they were being served delicate glasses of sorbet, though, Itachi was front and center.

He always seemed to be the closing focus of every event, even if he'd been main stage at the very beginning as well. Sasuke couldn't hate his brother for it, even though it drove him nuts. There was something about Itachi that just drew people in. His looks were impeccable, even for an Uchiha; his disposition was quiet and reserved; and there was a power to his presence, a calm, confident authority that drove it all home. Every part of Itachi's life was both effortless and immaculate. There was no bad gene in him. Not one.

"That's a good lad!" Hiroto roared, laughing so hard people from the other end of the table glanced up. Sasuke hadn't caught the story, but Itachi was smiling perfectly, Fugaku was grinning while his father went on chuckling, and Ryu was biting his tongue. Itachi could have just said the sky was blue. "Just like an Uchiha man should!"

Those words were legendary. When Sasuke was younger, they had made him wish he had been born a girl. But when Ryu's wife finally had a child, Sasuke had watched his cousin Akelu grow up in the same fashion as everyone else in the family. She sat across from Itachi now, politely picking at her meal, rarely saying a thing the entire time. She was a stunningly beautiful girl, with her soft fair skin; long, jet-straight black hair, always tucked behind a plain silk headband; large, solemn eyes the color of night; and her distinctly feminine way of dressing, only slightly reminiscent of the Victorian era. She, like Sasuke, and like Itachi had been, was top of her class, a genius by birth, and would probably be accepted into Yale early, too, when her time came.

She, however, lived with the words "Uchiha man" ringing in her ears. Hiroto never talked about what an "Uchiha woman" should act or look like. As it was, they were rarely born into the family. Every step she made was held in comparison to her male cousins, her male predecessors, her male rivals. She wasn't an Uchiha. She was a liability. Everything would prove difficult for her during her climb into the family business. Even marriage would be a trial for her. Sasuke might have felt bad for her if he hadn't grown up being compared to Itachi. Which was as fair as comparing him to a Greek god. So, basically, tough shit all around.

Dinner finally passed, and Hiroto stood to make an announcement or two, and then they were ushered onto the patio. In the back yard, the grounds were kept as though it was always spring. Not so difficult in California, but the small garden maze was brimming with azaleas, orchids, gloriosa lilies, and many other flowers in full bloom. Decorative fountains and short stone hedges added a classic touch to the artful display of shrubbery, but it was just a little garden. No need for anything too elaborate when the vineyards and mountains beyond offered a fantastic view by themselves.

There was more mingling, more gossiping, and more of Hiroto's wine. Sasuke put in a reasonable amount of effort to play his part well, but found as the evening went on that he was keeping better company with the wine glasses than his family. Eventually, he took to wandering. Inside, he knew the staff was hurrying to clean up, so there'd be more bustle and noise in there than his reserved family could ever muster. He was tempted to visit Kiyomi, but she was no doubt sleeping at this hour, and he was already a little tipsy again. So, instead, he slowly made his way to the eastern edge of the grounds, away from the vineyards and the gardens and the people. Wine in hand, he made his way to the stables.

For a good while, Sasuke had used the stables as his personal retreat. He'd run crying when his father had made a rather harsh remark about him when he was five once. When, an hour later, Mikoto realized her scorned son was still missing, a family-wide search broke out. It wasn't until late that evening someone found him, nestled in a stall against a pregnant mare's neck. She'd protectively drawn her head around him and let him sleep, tucked in like her soon-to-be foal. And there they both stayed until Fugaku came and carried him away. Ever since, Sasuke always came back.

It smelled like it always did: like hay, manure, and horse. Many of the large animals lifted their heads to him in greeting as he passed, and he paused to brush their long faces or scratch between their ears. They knew Sasuke's scent like they knew their own. He was welcome here.

"Nope," he sighed as a particularly frisky stallion nipped at his sleeve. The horse snorted, enormous black eyes staring right into him. "No snacks tonight. Maybe tomorrow."

"You know they have a diet to keep," the stable hand said as he came from the tack room, wiping his hands on his pants. He was one of the only workers on the grounds allowed to wear jeans. "These are champion show and race horses. Can't be upsettin' their training."

"Carrots are healthy," he argued mildly, patting the stallion, who seemed to nicker in agreement, tossing his mane with an enthusiastic shake of his head. "But you won't see me breaking the rules."

"Of course not, sir," he replied with a smirk. They both knew Sasuke would be back to feed the horses. Over the years, they'd become something like friends in a way.

"Any chance I can ride soon?" he asked, continuing to dote on his new big friend. "This one's new, isn't he?"

"Yeah, your grandfather just bought him a couple weeks ago," Toro said, crossing his arms. "Name's Fire and Fury. You know, horses and their names having to be unique and all. I've been calling him Daryl. He seems to like it."

"Daryl?" Sasuke repeated, blinking at Toro skeptically. The man shrugged, grinning only softly.

"You know, like on that zombie show all you kids are talking about," he said. When Sasuke only stared at him, Toro chuckled and amended, "Well, my little girl watches it anyway. This here horse is certainly full of fire, for sure. Thought the name fit."

"Well…" Sasuke didn't really watch television, unless it was the news. But he could recall some talk in the halls at school about a new popular show, and how everyone who watched it had the same favorite character. Now that he thought on it, he could piece a couple things together about this "Daryl" guy. Apparently, he was something of a badass. Sasuke looked at the horse, who was shifting anxiously in his stall. "Daryl it is."

"Don't know about you riding him, though," Toro said. "He's in prime training for the Kentucky Derby. Got a lot of potential, Hiroto thinks."

"Is he fast?"

"Oh yeah."

"Then how could I resist?" Sasuke laughed, and the horse Daryl lifted his head, and seemed to laugh with him.

* * *

**So, I have officially begun my second semester as a college student. I can already tell my semester is going to be insanely complicated and crazy busy. As some of you know, I'm a theatre major, and right now, I'm on props crew for one show, and I'm assigned to be an assistant stage manager for another. Plus, I have to try to fit in work somehow with all that. Which is entirely too complicated. I had to leave for about three weeks because the dorms (that freshmen are forced to live in) shut down over break. So I kind of had no say in going home. But now that I'm back, everything at my workplace has changed and the people in charge (including the girl now doing the schedule, who doesn't like me because I don't kiss her ass every time she bends over) keep throwing the "well, you were gone for three weeks, so we gave your hours to other people and we can't just take them back because they need them too." ... Even though I've been working there for five months and everyone knew I was coming back. It's really frustrating. I worked 30+ hours last semester every week, and this stupid girl scheduled me for two days this week. I remind you that I pay for college and all necessities on my own. I'm now officially broke and have no way of paying for my school supplies. **

**Rant over. Not much of Naruto in this chapter, no, but too bad. You got a little bit of juiciness in there, and a little bit to think about. Yes, I had to put horses in this, because when there's a rich man with a mansion, there must be good food, nice gardens, and stables. And yes, the horse is named after Daryl Dixon from the The Walking Dead. :) **

**I may have put this in the AN at the end of the first chapter, but the writing style for this fanfiction is actually inspired by a peculiar mix of literature/media. I'm a girl of variety, and so I've actually taken from both The Lord of the Rings and Gossip Girl for this story... Don't judge. I've never read Gossip Girl, but I indulge in watching it because I needed something to watch on Netflix after watching The Walking Dead, and everything sucked completely until I got to GG. Which isn't anything spectacular, but it's interesting and keeps me hooked. **

**Anyway, I'm hoping you're enjoying, and I'll try to post more soon. :)**

**AnimeCountDown**


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